Little Doves

I sit in my father’s compound. There is an Eurasian collared dove resting gently on the ground. I’m relaxed as I listen to it cooing. It looks peaceful. I wouldn’t have expected it not to, since it is a symbol of peace. I’m curious to know how it hasn’t figured out that I can be such dangerous company. I reminisce about those days when we were young…when we had our little minds convinced that once you eat a dove, there is no one that could surpass your intelligence. I smile at the memory. Slowly, I get tempted to try out my hunting skills. I’m unfortunate that this little thing figures out that I’m holding a stone and it flies away. Damn! I wasn’t even successful at making the attempt. Am I failing at trying out something new?

I’ve been giving thought what my dad encouraged me to do during this…